Taste of Defeat
by SoulSeeker
Summary: It was simple. He had miscalculated. Sho Minamimoto, one shot.


**Title:** Taste of Defeat**  
Author:** Amm (SoulSeeker)**  
Written for:** vio55**  
Fandom:** The World Ends with You**  
Characters:** Sho Minamimoto  
**Prompt:** "I guess I'm thinking a hundred miles an hour."  
**Wordcount:** 784  
**Rating:** K+ (erm, mentions of death?)

* * *

_Some old horses could always hear their owner approach._ And some old horses, it turned out, never could.

Sho Minamimoto laid frozen on the ground of the cold Shibuya River, under a pile of what felt like his own heap of metal rubble. He could barely lift his head. His vision was blurry, and his hands and legs were all numb. He was paralyzed; but not by the heavy, metal garbagethat was now crushing his spine. Not by the fact he was now quickly losing consciousness, and the last thing he would see is the Composer's smug face—which he wanted to pummel straight to negative infinity. It was something else. Something simple.

He had miscalculated.

Konishi was zetta weak, he kept saying. And then he realized the truth: so was he.

Even with reduced powers, in his most simplified form, the Composer had still been able to overpower him. Even when _he_ was at his peak. Even when he had taken the time, the effort to carefully learn to construct the Taboo refinery sigil. Even with all his careful planning: a week of essentially ignoring his duties as Game Master, giving out _no_ missions, and faking his own "death." Disappearing, like an insignificant figure, then reappearing like a ghost. None of that was enough to prepare him.

"I didn't want to do this, you know," he could hear Joshua saying, folding his arms. "But you pushed me."

His speed. His power. His agility. The Composer outranked him in every way he could think of, and to say that it was aggravating would've been a gross understatement. He didn't know why it had happened: his "zetta sexy" new body was supposed to _enhance_ his speed, power, and agility. But something had gone wrong, it seemed. Maybe he hadn't been used to the new body yet. Maybe his transformation hadn't been complete. Maybe something had gone wrong with the refinery sigil itself?

He supposed it didn't matter anymore. It didn't work.

The Composer was able to dodge most of his attacks with ease. Sometimes even sending them back at him at two, three times the power. Meanwhile, he got repeatedly pummeled with SUVs, vending machines, Stop signs, and everything else that Joshua could think to throw at him. Everything that was now sitting, dog-piled on top of him in one big garbage heap.

Anything. Anything that could be used as weapon was used. Big, heavy things, and they all came at Sho, _fast_. Faster than before, when Joshua had been partnered to that orange-haired hectopascal. He was thinking at least a hundred miles an hour faster, since gravity was on his side. Whenever he _did_ actually manage to dodge something, two more things appeared to squash him...

_"Neku, let's go!"_

_"Yeah, coming..."_

Voices. Footsteps in the distance. They were rapidly approaching, and for a moment, Sho struggled, making one last futile attempt to break free. Which, in retrospect, probably hadn't been the smartest thing to do, since he had just effectively wasted what was left of his energy. It was too late, though, by the time he realized it. With a groan, his body fell limp, and he quickly realized he wasn't going anywhere.

"Whoops. Here, already?" Joshua whispered to himself, with an air of disappointment. He turned to Sho, casually flipping a piece of his hair out of his face. "I guess our time is up...I can't exactly stay and spoil the ending for them, now can I?" He was chuckling a little as he bent down, looking at him with condescending eyes. "Rest in peace."

The Composer picked up Sho's cap that he had seen fall to the ground during their battle, and he placed it on his head with a pat. He exited the room gracefully and quietly, leaving Sho alone to deal with his proxy and his friends — in the little time he had left. Their footsteps steadily grew louder, and their voices became more clear. Sho closed his eyes, hoping he would slip into unconsciousness before ever having to face them.

"Look! There's something there."

"One of Pi-Face's heaps?"

"Le's check it out."

There were three of them. He could feel them now, digging through the garbage heap, as if they were looking for treasure that was buried underneath. He kept his eyes closed as he listened to them chattering among themselves. Any minute now...

"_Omigosh!_ There's a person under there!"

"Yo, look who it is!"

"The Grim Heaper got... crunched..."

There was more school-girl chatter. He could feel his cap suddenly being lifted from his head, followed by more footsteps, getting farther and farther away. And after all the _s__labs of ham, celery and horseradish, tons of asparagus_... Sho had finally tasted defeat.

* * *

_**A/N:** You know who's hard to write for me? Sho. I was trying so hard to keep him "in character" (ish), without going overboard with stupid math references, and that really made this kind of hard._

_You know who's even harder to write? Defeated!Sho. Because he's so damn over the top and in your face in the game, that I really was like "Craaaap, how am I going to make this believable"-- even though Joshua kicking his butt is a CANON event. (Even though he's the one who mentions it and ffff who wants to believe that little b**** after all the...you know, never mind. We won't get into that.)_

_ANYWAY. Regardless, I worked ridiculously hard on this dinky little drabble that didn't even break 1,000 words. I hope it didn't burn your eyes or anything, at least. ^^; Thanks for reading._


End file.
